Bloody Seduction
by Blissaster
Summary: Apollo was trying to prove to Luke that Hermes loved him. By... seducing him?


**Thanks to: **As usual, my ever wonderful beta, **anakinlove**, without her, this story would be more boring and less funny. :)

**Warning:** Stupidity. OOC-ness for the sake of humor.

* * *

Mt. Olympus, Apollo's dwelling…

Hands behind his back, Apollo was pacing.

He really could not understand Hermes sometimes –okay, most of the time, but that was not the point. The point was, that Hermes' boy –that Luke or something— should have been dead. But he wasn't. He had been saved (thanks to his prowess in the art of healing by the way, not to brag or anything, just stating a fact). The Titans were defeated and now there were no threats whatsoever towards Olympus anymore (except maybe a threat from Hermes and his seemingly endless materials of blackmail on every god and goddess, be they a major or a minor).

Everyone got what they wanted, didn't they? _Hermes_ got what he wanted, which was his boy alive. So, shouldn't Hermes be happy? Rejoicing? Doing a victory dance around Olympus, naked? Okay, may be not the last part, most probably it'd traumatize everyone—mortals and immortals alike— for life. And that was not what he wanted. Still…

Shouldn't Hermes be predictably happy?

But no, instead of acting as predicted and being happy (or having a teary reunion followed by a long heart-to-heart with his boy, whichever, Apollo wasn't picky), Hermes just had to act exactly the opposite and sulked gloomily instead, refusing to meet his boy. He said it was because, Apollo quoted, "He must hate me now."

Which was extremely, completely, utterly stupid, really. Anyone with half a brain could see that, the blond boy didn't hate his father. If he did, he wouldn't have stopped Kronos. Then again, for one so smart, Hermes could be incredibly dense at times. Like now.

And that was where Apollo came in. After all, wasn't it one of a big brother's duties to make his dear little brother see sense?

Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that Apollo was quite bored now that the peace was restored and there wasn't much to do.

Well, okay, may be a little. But Hermes didn't need to know that. And what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right? Of course he was right.

With that thought in mind, he raced out of his dwelling towards his Maserati that was the Sun Chariot.

Destination: Camp Half-Blood. There was a certain blond half-blood he had to meet.

* * *

Luke knew there was something wrong the moment Apollo got out of his Sun Chariot and brought –dragged really— him somewhere kind-of-but-not-really private.

He just never thought it would be something like _this_.

"Hermes really loves you, you know," Apollo said without preamble.

For a moment all he could do was stare at the god of sun.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Luke blinked. Not for the first time, he wondered if every immortal –Olympians and Titans alike— was a complete nut. He shook his head to ward off his shock. Once he regained his composure, his earlier dumbstruck expression was replaced by a charming smile. "Of course," he said smoothly, smiling pleasantly at the god of sun, "he must have truly loved me. That was why he left me, right?" his smile never faltered, his voice honey sweet, his sarcasm crystal clear.

Apollo frowned at Luke's sarcasm (which to him, was uncalled for). "You don't trust me," he said. It was more of an observer's statement rather than a question.

Luke answered it nonetheless. "Of _course_ I trust you," he smiled, sarcasm dripping from his voice like venom, "I mean, what reasons do I have not to trust you? Beside, you know, the fact that you just _manipulated_ me into becoming Kronos' vessel and _left me_ to **die**," he said flippantly, as if he didn't care. "But, it's okay, right? Because it's for the greater good. Not to mention that I'm disposable, because hey, I'm just that bastard son of the messenger," He spat this last part, for a moment his wall of charming smiles and sarcastic remarks faltering in favor of the anger and bitterness which now clearly shone through. Apollo flinched at that, so palpable was the blond's anger. "Right?" Luke's smile was back into his lips, though his eye –the left one, Apollo noted— was visibly twitching.

Apollo cringed. Somehow he got the feeling that Luke wasn't as pleased as he made himself to be. If he didn't know any better –which he did, thank you very much—he would say that the blond was quite angry at him, though why that was he had no ideas.

"Er, right. So you don't trust me," Apollo stated the obvious, just to be sure. It was always better to be safe than sorry after all, especially when you were dealing with your emotionally unstable highly dangerous nephew.

At this statement, Luke's eye twitched again, more violently this time, and although he still had that frighteningly wide smile on his face, somehow that smile didn't look so friendly anymore. Actually, if Apollo was to be honest, the blond's smile looked a little –just a little, mind you— well, for the lack of suitable word, _crazed_. Like the blond had wanted to punch him all along, but had restrained himself, and his patience had just snapped and he could not wait to do so. Punch, or anything that cause bodily harm, really.

Apollo didn't know as to why that was though, honestly.

… Okay, may be he did, but that wasn't important. What important was…

"Well, guess I just have to prove it to you then," Apollo said, giving Luke a winning smile.

Luke started, taken aback. Clearly he hadn't expected this turn of events, though a second later his surprise faded, replaced by suspicion. His eyes narrowed, all traces of good natured humor gone in an instant. "What do you want?" he asked, eyeing the god of the sun suspiciously, his body tense, ready to bolt –to fight or to flight—at the slightest hint of threat from Apollo.

Apollo suppressed an urge to roll his eyes at the blond's paranoia. "Relax, boy. I mean no harms, I swear on the Styx River."

Luke visibly calmed at that, though he didn't let his guard down completely. "What do you mean?" he repeated his question.

"I mean what I said," Apollo said, shrugging. "I just want to show you how much Hermes, your father, loves you." He locked eyes with Luke. "Are you up to it?" he asked, slightest hint of challenge in his voice. A bait.

Luke didn't snap it up though, he knew better than to rush head on just because a silly little challenge. He was silent for a while, contemplating his answer. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, more to himself. "What can you possibly gain from this? What do you want?" his voice was soft, but his eyes were piercing.

Apollo cursed the blond's sharp instinct inwardly. _Damn demigods and their cursed instinct,_ he thought.

"Would you believe me if I say I'm doing this out of good will?" Apollo said half-jokingly, trying to lighten the serious mood that had fallen upon them.

"No," Luke deadpanned.

Apollo cringed. "Somehow I knew you would say that."

Luke rolled his eyes and mumbled something that suspiciously sounded like, "No shit, Sherlock. You're the freaking god of oracles."

Apollo sighed, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly before he squared them and straightened his back, his face serious. "Fine, I'll tell you then," he paused for dramatic effect. Luke tensed in anticipation. Then… "Because I'm bored."

Silence.

Then understanding fully dawned on Luke. His eye twitched, a clear sign he was _very_ irritated. Not a second later, Backbiter was on his hand, its point at Apollo's throat.

"I'm just kidding, just kidding!" Apollo said hastily, hands up in universal gesture of surrender.

Luke sheathed Backbiter, though his glare spoke volumes. If looks could kill Apollo would be having a _very_ painful and slow death by now.

"And here I thought, as a son of my brother you could appreciate some jokes," Apollo grumbled to himself.

_On second thought,_ Luke thought, hand going back to his trusted sword's hilt.

"Just kidding, just kidding!"

"So what's your _real_ reason?" Luke asked, making sure to emphasize on the word real with a pointed glare.

"Hermes thinks you hate him," Apollo said bluntly, without preamble.

Luke started, taken aback for the second time. "But I don't—" he said, before cutting himself off when he realized what he was about to say. He was just about to admit that…

"You don't hate Hermes," Apollo stated confidently, as if he had always known that. Which made Luke glower darkly at Apollo, at which Apollo smirked smugly. "I know that," he drawled with an air of smugness that made Luke want to beat him senseless. "But Hermes doesn't know that. Apparently."

"I don't—" Luke argued.

"You don't hate Hermes," Apollo said firmly, effectively cutting Luke off. "And don't even try to say otherwise, because I know. You can't lie to god of truth, after all," he said, smiling charmingly.

Luke glared.

Apollo beamed.

Luke sighed. He knew defeat when he saw one.

Apollo smiled, patting Luke's hair.

Luke swatted at Apollo's hand, shooting him a dark glare that promised slow and painful demise if the immortal didn't stop _right now_.

Apollo laughed, completely unfazed.

"So, what do you say, boy?" Apollo asked, raising an eyebrow at Luke. "I'll show you how much Hermes loves you for you telling him that you don't hate him. Well, I prefer if you tell him that you love him for that's the truth," he rambled on, conveniently ignoring the heated glare Luke sent his way. "But I guess not hate will do too. It's not that bad of a deal, is it?"

Luke frowned. "Why are you doing this?" he asked again, though this time, his voice lacked the fierce suspicion it previously held.

Apollo shrugged. "As much I hate to admit it, but that dense old man of yours is my brother." At Luke's questioning gaze, he elaborated. "And that's what a big brothers do, right? Helping their sometimes clueless little brothers?"

"Messing with one's family affair, you mean," Luke commented, snorting.

"Same thing," Apollo waved his hand dismissively.

Luke bit his lower lip, contemplating. He wanted to accept, wanted to know if his father really cared, but he was reluctant. The logical part of him screamed to him to refuse _right now_, telling him he must be beyond stupid to accept. That he would only be disappointed. Not to mention Apollo was looking very suspicious. But…

But he had never been good at listening to reasons anyway.

"I accept," Luke answered, nodding.

Apollo grinned. "You won't regret it," he assured as he shook the blond's hand vigorously.

_I already do,_ Luke thought miserably.

* * *

Mt. Olympus, Apollo's dwelling…

_Absolutely nuts,_ Luke thought as he watched while Apollo had something akin to mental breakdown. Apollo was pacing in what appeared to be his study and kept muttering under his breath, a panicked "He's _so _gonna kill me!" mumble or a pathetic "What did I do to deserve this?" moan or a "Why am I doing this again? Oh right, because I'm a nice and reliable, not to mention _selfless_ brother" grumble.

Luke waited until Apollo calmed down. He would _not_ help him, no way, no how, he was **not** getting soft.

Once he deemed Apollo was calm enough, he asked, "So, what are you planning to do?"

Apollo stopped in mid pacing (yes, he was still pacing, though not as close to hysteric as he had been before) before ever so slowly turning around to look at Luke, blinking several times as if he had completely forgotten that the blond was there.

And maybe he had.

_Idiot,_ Luke thought, though he didn't say it out loud. _No wonder there's global warming._

"What am I planning to do?"Apollo echoed Luke's earlier question, his voice was silky smooth as he glided towards him gracefully.

Luke started, taken aback, the sudden change in Apollo catching him off guard. He blinked, only now realizing how close Apollo had come. Which was too close, _way _too close.

And was it just him or… Why did Apollo's voice sound so husky all of sudden? And what with the close proximity? Honestly. Didn't Apollo understand the concept of personal space?

Out of pure instinct, he backed away, only to find himself unable, the oak desk he was leaning against was preventing him. Blue eyes widened for a second before he cursed himself under his breath. Vehemently.

How could he be so reckless as to not realizing that there was nowhere to run?

Apollo chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he whispered with a wide smile that Luke knew didn't bode well, not for him anyway.

Luke blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. In the back of his mind, he knew there was a word to describe what Apollo was doing to him right now. It started with an S and…

"Are you… seducing me?" Luke asked incredulously.

The idea was too absurd. A god or not, Apollo was a male, so was he. Not that he had something against homosexuality, really. It was just… not his thing he supposed (and even if it was, surely he would NOT be the girl in the relationship!). Not to mention Apollo was his uncle, who was a god, which made him much older than him.

And had he mentioned that Apollo was a male?

He had. Right.

"Why, I believe I am," Apollo answered, purring.

And Luke's brain just.

Shut.

Down.

In the back of his mind, Luke wondered if it was a good time to start screaming. Screaming and running and getting away from the crazy god of the sun. But since his brain had chosen to simply turn off a moment ago, all he could do was to stare at Apollo, blinking stupidly as Apollo's face got closer to his.

From up close, Luke couldn't help but notice that Apollo looked like him. A lot. They could be mistaken for twins. Except for the glow that the god of sun seemed to emit. Idly, he wondered if every god — for the lack of better word— sparkled. Or was it just Apollo's thing, him being the god of sun and all? Or was Apollo also known as god of sparkles?

… Was there a thing such as god of sparkles?

And closer…

_It would be really freaky,_ Luke thought somewhat detachedly. Apollo really looked like him. It would feel like kissing your own brother. Your identical twin brother. Like Travis and Connor kissing (… Okay, bad mental image!). Then again, Apollo was his uncle, was he not? Who was a male. And _way_ older than him, like, hundreds years older than him. He wondered if it would count as paedophilia?

… Nah, he didn't think so. He was of age after all.

And close—

"Wait!" Luke squeaked. He hated how high-pitched his voice sounded, but at least he wasn't frozen in shock anymore, which could only mean one thing: his brain was rebooting.

_About damn time,_ he grumbled.

Thankfully, Apollo complied, and stopped, though his face was still too close for Luke's liking. It made him unable to think but, _Too close! Too close! _Way _too close!_

"What are we waiting for?" Apollo asked, his breath ghosting over Luke's face, making him shudder. In the back of his mind, he noted it was mint-flavored. Then he realized what he had just been thinking and went into hysterics.

"I… Uh…" Luke's eyes darted around, looking for an escape. He found none. He cursed himself for the umpteenth time. Apollo chuckled at that. Luke frowned, hating the way Apollo laughed at him. And somehow, it kicked some sense into his brain. "What's so funny?" he snapped.

"Nothing," Apollo answered, a wide grin that clearly indicated it was not nothing on his face. "It's just that… Hermes is a smooth talker, funny how you, his son, flustered so easily."

Luke's eyes narrowed at that. "I'm sorry if I'm not used to the _art _of seduction," he spat the word art hatefully, as if it was venomous.

"You mean the art of being seduced?" Apollo drawled casually, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Luke's eye twitched at that. "When you were busy destroying the world, you didn't have much time for frivolous things such as seducing people," he sneered.

"Or being seduced," Apollo added smoothly, not fazed at all by the hostility in Luke's voice.

"You…" Luke growled.

"Want to start learning now?" a lazy smile on his lips, Apollo leaned closer, whispering the word to Luke's ears, knowing well that it made the blond uncomfortable.

And just like that, Luke's composure crumbled down, _again. _His eyes widened in horror, cheeks flushed red. "I… You… That's not…" he spluttered, trying in vain to save what dignity he had left at this point.

"So," Apollo casually put his hands on the table, one on each of Luke's side, effectively trapping him, "what do you say to that?" he asked through half-lidded eyes, making sure his voice sounded husky.

Luke froze, for the second time having a brain melt-down.

* * *

It was just another ordinary day to Hermes. Bunches of unending messages he had to deliver that made him wonder for the umpteenth time if he should ask for a raise, the steady flow of bantering from George and Martha that made him want to bash his head, or better yet, banged the two snakes' heads together…

It should have stayed that way.

But then Apollo sent him a message, asking –more like demanding, really— him to come to his place.

And here he was…

"It better be good, or else…" he grumbled to himself under his breath, his eye already twitching in annoyance at the mere thought of the non-sense Apollo would sprout, like a new _haiku, _or something equally as stupid. "I'm coming in," he announced his presence, opening the door towards his brother's study.

And he froze in his place.

Whatever it was he had expected, it was not _this_…

Luke –_my_ _son_, his brain screamed at him— sprawled on the table, hands flailing, feet kicking, with Apollo on top of him.

And all Hermes saw was red.

_Mine_, his mind snarled aggressively. _My boy. Mine, mine, mine, mine! Mine, and mine only. _The chant echoed in his head endlessly.

"Brother," he deadpanned. He was angry, livid, _furious_. The kind that instead of charging head on brutally without thinking, he felt utterly calm, thinking logically how to inflict the most damage.

Apollo froze. He knew that voice.

Hermes.

_Oh shit, _Apollo thought. _Here it comes._

Apollo turned around. And there Hermes stood, in his usual camouflage of middle-aged man with a quite unusual stony expression on his face.

"Can you get _away_ from **my** son, please?" Hermes' cold tone was a contrast to his polite words.

Apollo tensed. Luke was quite sure he would oblige.

"Why don't you make me?" Apollo asked back instead, head tilted back in challenging manner.

Hermes' eyes narrowed dangerously, before he vanished silently.

Luke blinked, wondering where Hermes had gone when he felt an arm circle around his waist and the next thing he knew, he was across the room, Hermes standing in front of him protectively.

"I've had enough of my son claimed by another," Hermes hissed, his voice was dangerously low. Luke wondered if Hermes was talking about Kronos.

"But you abandoned him, once," Apollo pointed out, mercilessly blunt.

Luke flinched at that. He noticed Hermes tense ever so slightly, but otherwise, showed no reaction.

"We both know the only reason I left him was because _dear father_—" the term of endearment was spat like a venom by Hermes, "—would kill him the moment I chose to stay with him and jeopardized the damned prophecy!" Hermes growled, blue eyes flashing in anger.

"I know," Apollo said calmly, "but your son didn't." he pointed out.

Hermes whirled back to look at Luke, his son, whose blue eyes wide in hopeful surprise.

"Is that true?" Luke asked, voice wavering.

"… I'm sorry," Hermes said, looking away in shame. "I shouldn't have obeyed him, I should've fought for you, I should've—"

Luke ignored it, and instead asked again. "Is that true?" he insisted, tugging at the hem of Hermes' shirt to get his attention. Slowly, reluctantly, Hermes nodded. "So you don't hate me?" he asked, "You didn't leave me because… because I disappointed you? In every way imaginable? Because I'm a…" he swallowed the lump in his throat. "… a failure…?"

"'A failure'?" Hermes echoed incredulously. "Whoever says you're a failure?"

Luke looked away. "Kronos," he answered softly.

"I should've known," Hermes growled angrily. When he saw Luke flinch, as if his anger was directed at him, his face softened. "Luke…"

"It's not a big deal," Luke shrugged, as if it was nothing, though from the pain reflected in his eyes, it was anything but.

"Listen," Hermes reached out to touch Luke's cheek, but the blond backed away and his hand fell to his side. If he was disappointed or hurt he didn't show it. Instead he said, "Listen. You're **not** a failure. You never are."

"I failed my mission," Luke pointed out quietly. "And it wasn't an exceptionally hard mission."

"Yet you accomplished so much more." Hermes said smoothly.

"I betrayed you," Luke shot back.

"And I you," Hermes said and before Luke could say anything to argue, he continued, "I abandoned you, didn't I?"

Luke flinched, falling silent at that. "… I resurrected Kronos."

"And that was quite a feat."

"I led the Titans' army!" Luke cried out, growing frustrated with the way Hermes seemed to refuse to acknowledge his wrongdoings.

Hermes nodded calmly. "And what a fine leader you made, to lead both monsters and half-bloods at the same time."

"I tried to destroy the Westernization! The world!" Luke's voice grew louder as his frustration mounted.

"And you ended up saving it instead," Hermes pointed out calmly. "Which, might I remind you, almost killed you in the process."

"It didn't matter!" Luke cried out, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Why couldn't Hermes see what a bad person he was?

Then as if reading his mind –and may be he was— Hermes said, "Because you're not."

Luke gritted his teeth. "But I am," he insisted. "Can't you see? I've caused so much destruction, killed so many people… Humans, half-bloods…" he said, stubbornly locking eyes with Hermes, his jaw was set, his hands balled at each of his side. He _would_ make Hermes see him, _truly _see him, even if he'd end up hating him.

He had expected anger, or disgust, perhaps both, which he had to admit, as painful as it was, was what he deserved. But there was none. Instead hardening in anger, Hermes' face softened.

"And saved so many others," Hermes said softly, staring back at Luke. Luke looked away, not knowing what to say to that. Hermes put his hand on Luke's cheek, forcing him to look at him in the eye. Luke flinched under his touch, but Hermes refused to let go. He had let go one too many times. "Look, you've done wrong, yes, but you also have atoned for your mistakes."

"What I've done is not something that can be brushed so easily…"

"Nor is it unforgivable."

"But—"

"Not everyone can do what you did to drive Kronos away, Luke," Hermes cut him off firmly, though not unkindly.

Luke looked down, hand clenching and unclenching at his side. "So, you don't hate me?" he asked, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "After everything I've done?"

"Do you hate me?" Hermes asked back instead, voice soft. "For leaving you? For betraying you?"

Luke averted his gaze. "Hate's a strong word," he murmured, avoiding the question.

"It is," Hermes agreed, nodding. "But that's not the question," he pointed out. When Luke stayed silent, he asked once again, "Do you hate me?"

"… I don't," Luke answered quietly, looking at anything but Hermes.

"Neither do I hate you," Hermes said softly. "How can I?"

Luke looked up at Hermes at that, hopeful, yet disbelieving. "… Really?" he asked.

"Really," Hermes smiled reassuringly at him.

Luke smiled shakily. "I…" he hesitated. "Thank you…?" he said, sounding more like a question than a statement. He looked lost and unsure of himself.

Hermes' heart clenched at that, hating Kronos for breaking his son's spirit. _Then again, it all was your fault, wasn't it?_ A traitorous part of him whispered. He tried to deny it, only he couldn't. It was true. If he had stayed, if he had protected Luke like a father should, none of this would have happened.

"You're my son," Hermes blurted out suddenly, hating the unsure look on Luke's face and wanting, _needing_ to wipe that look.

Luke's head snapped up to look at Hermes. "Huh?"

"You're my son," Hermes repeated himself, in a softer voice this time, but firmer tone. "And I'm proud of you." Luke's eyes widened, as if not quite believing what he had just heard. "Have always been, will always be."

Luke seemed to be at loss for words. "… Ah, it's nice to know that… dad," he said in the end, his voice was quiet, and the last part was nothing but a whisper.

Hermes heard it anyway. And this time, it was his turn to be speechless. So he just acted.

A wide joyful grin on his face, he pulled Luke –_my son_, his mind whispered, again and again— into a hug. Luke started, clearly not expecting it, his body tensing up for a second, before he reminded himself in whose embrace he was and his body relaxed. Ever so carefully, as if he was not sure what he was doing, he put his hands on Hermes' waist, hugging him back.

"I love you, son," Hermes murmured, "so very much."

Luke buried his face to Hermes' shoulder, mumbling something incoherent that sounded suspiciously like, "Love you too."

Hermes tightened his hold in response, content having his son safe in his arms.

Meanwhile, with Apollo…

Apollo nodded approvingly as he watched Hermes and his boy solve the misunderstanding between them.

_Now that's what I call a job well done,_ he thought, inwardly giving himself a pat on the back.

And now everything was turning out okay, it was his time to make a hasty retreat.

Apollo had not forgotten how Hermes had looked ready for murder earlier, knowing full well that the only thing stopping Hermes from beating him right then right there was because to Hermes, mending his relationship with his son was much more important. And now said relationship was mended, well... Apollo had mo illusion Hermes would let him go just like that.

He imagined Hermes would not forgive him, not easily anyway, and certainly not without giving him a (violent) piece of his mind. He was sure Hermes would not forget about it anytime soon either. He was good at holding grudge just like that.

Apollo doubted it would help if he said that he had just wanted to see Hermes happy. And what better way to cheer him up than to help him mending his relationship with his son? If his way was a bit... unorthodox, well, there was a reason as to why Athena was their strategist and not him.

Knowing it was best if he just went now, when Hermes was busy with his boy, he inched towards the doors as silently, stealthily as possible. He wasn't so sure he would make it though, not that he was a pessimist, mind you. It was more because it was Hermes from whom he was trying to escape. Amongst all Olympians, Hermes was the stealthiest, naturally. He wasn't a god of thieves for nothing.

Still, he could hope, right?

_Just a little closer,_ he thought, his face brightened as he got closer towards the doors, towards safety, no matter how temporary it was. Because even though he was able to get away from Hermes now, he was sure his brother would chase after him, wherever he went. And no one –not even their father, the mighty god of thunder Zeus himself— could escape Hermes once he set his mind to a chase. And once Hermes found him…

He might not be able to escape a certain doom from his brother, but he could prolong it, right?

Those doors were so taunting, only a couple of feet from him.

Maybe Hermes would choose to let him go (he snorted at the thought. _Not bloody likely_).

Maybe Hermes was too preoccupied with his son (highly probable. Then again Hermes was good at multitasking).

Maybe… he still had a hope to escape. Maybe, maybe…

"Brother."

Apollo froze in his track.

_Maybe not._

Hermes turned to look at Apollo, a small smile on his lips. His face, as well as his voice, was calm, though Apollo could sense the well concealed malice underneath.

_Hermes is angry,_ Apollo thought, instinctively backing away, getting further from his brother.

"We'll have a _long_ chat after this," Hermes said, smiling pleasantly. The twitching of his left eye didn't go unnoticed by Apollo.

_Scratch that, he's furious,_ Apollo gulped. He turned to look at Luke, pleading with his eyes for the blond to help him.

Luke stared at the god of sun before him, as if he had just realized that despite being a god, Apollo too was his uncle. An uncle who was quite nice, if a little bit crazy. Trying to show him how much his father loved him by... seducing him (his eye twitched in annoyance at the triple damned word). He didn't know what had made Apollo think that plan would work, but thankfully, miraculously enough, it had. And Luke was grateful for that. He truly was.

That didn't mean he was not a little bit... _pissed off_ to be made look stupid in front of his father. To be cornered and seduced like a helpless little girl.

The mere thought made his blood boil. And he wanted revenge.

_What to do?_ He wondered, his eyes flickering towards his father. That was when he got an idea.

Apollo watched Luke as his expression shifted. First, there was contemplation, followed by a smile that made Apollo sighed in relief. Then there was a slight frown and Luke's smile changed into something positively devious. Instinctively, he backed away, feeling ill at ease. That grin… it reminded him too much of Hermes' own, the one that said that the god of thieves was about to unleash a particularly nasty prank on him.

"Luke…" Apollo said warningly, eyeing Luke suspiciously.

But Luke just smiled innocently at him. And Apollo would have believed him too, had he not known for sure that nothing, absolutely no-freaking-thing could be innocent when it came to Hermes. Or his children.

"Dad," Luke's voice was deceivingly sweet. Hermes looked at Luke over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Can I help?"

Hermes was looking at him strangely for a moment, before laughing heartily.

It sounded positively evil to Apollo's ears.

"That's my boy!" Hermes exclaimed proudly, ruffling Luke's hair affectionately.

Luke grinned back shyly. "Like son, like father?"

_Like son, like father indeed,_ Apollo thought, noticing the identical grin on Hermes' and Luke's face, the way their blue eyes gleamed with mischief. _And isn't that a scary thought?_

He hoped, wholeheartedly, that Luke wouldn't turn out to be an exact copy of Hermes. It was hard enough to deal with one Hermes, thank you very much. Two would be plain disastrous, like Kronos-leading, world-ending, human-extinct kind of disastrous.

"Shall we, dad?" Luke asked in mock politeness.

And that, Apollo knew, was the bell to his doom.

* * *

Camp Half-Blood…

It was just another normal day, one when gods or goddesses came and went by to check up on their children, and did some much needed family bonding.

One when Apollo was being chased around the camp by a certain god of thieves.

"Get back here, dammit!"

"No way!"

"When I get my hands on you, I swear I'll…" Hermes' growled, blue eyes flashing with the promise of bodily harm he was so readily to inflict.

Luke leaned on Cabin Eleven's wall as he watched his father chase after his uncle, screaming threats (he made sure to take notes of some more creative threats he had never heard, for future use. Who knew his father could be really… imaginative when it came to threatening people?).

He smiled contentedly. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Travis and Connor, with a handful of Cabin Eleven campers, huddled together, no doubt planning to bring Apollo to his (to them, well-deserved) demise in the bloodiest, goriest way possible.

He didn't know how both Stolls knew about the… "Bloody Seduction Incident", as he had come to call it, but they had and to his immense surprise, instead of laughing their heads off and using it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to mock him endlessly, they had been indignantly outrageous. He could still remember clearly the way his twin brothers seethed.

"_The nerve!" Travis exclaimed angrily. "To try claiming one of our own!" he growled._

"_We'll get back at him," Connor said, his voice promising revenge. He looked calmer than his older twin, but the gleam in his eyes was just as dangerous, if not more._

_Luke had been surprise at their vehemence to "avenge" him. It was strange, he mused, to be the one protected for once, though he must admit it was not unpleasant. Still…_

"_I'm not a damsel, you know," he pointed out calmly. "I'm not helpless."_

"_We know," Connor said._

_Luke felt a "but" somewhere in that sentence._

"_But we want to do this, anyway," Travis finished Connor's speech effortlessly, shrugging nonchalantly._

_Luke didn't know what to say to that. So, he settled for a thank you. "Thank you," he said genuinely, smiling at them both._

_Travis and Connor exchanged a look for a second before grinning from ear-to-ear, saying, in unison, "You're welcome."_

"_Now," Travis rubbed his hands together in a decidedly malicious manner. "Let's plot."_

_The same glint on his twin's eyes was the only answer he needed._

And just like that, Apollo had two other half-bloods he should worry would kill –or in this case, prank— him in his sleep.

Luke started to wonder if possessiveness was hereditary.

Then, not long after that, the whole Cabin Eleven had, as the Stolls dubbed it, "joined their cause."

_Absolutely hereditary,_ Luke concluded, nodding to himself.

He was glad that his siblings were so ready to defend him, it was more than he could hope. Still, he wouldn't be satisfied if he didn't do something to Apollo himself.

It was not that he hated the god of sun, no. If he was to be completely honest, he was quite fond of the immortal. After all, without his uncle's help –as unorthodox as it had been— he wouldn't have known how much his father and siblings loved him. If his way of showing affection was a little bit… unusual, well, maybe his uncle's unorthodox way was contagious.

Idly, he wondered what else he could do to prank said uncle. _Stealing his symbol?_ He wondered. It would be easy too, he betted. But it was getting old after his stunt with Zeus' Master Bolt. May be he should steal his uncle's holy cattle instead.

A wide mischievous grin spread all over his face, blue eyes gleaming.

Now, that sounded like a good plan.

Hands deep in his pockets, humming a random cheerful song he heard on commercial, looking as innocent as he could, he started plotting.

His uncle dearest wouldn't know what hit him.

_Life sure is fun._

* * *

As always, thank you for reading this.

This story resulted from my obsession to make a humor story between Luke and Hermes (though it ended up having some hurt/comfort moment in there) and a happy ending between them. Not that I hate angst, it's just... I want to try something new.

And, yes, Luke is a bastard. But since he's Luke, he's forgiven. Lol. And, maybe it's just me, but somehow I always think Hermes is strong in his own way. After all, knowledge is power and the guy is the messenger, the sole link between the Olympians. I can't help but imagine that he somehow knows every dirty secret every immortal has, and will exploit it if he thinks necessary. So, yeah... XD


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